What Love Really Means
by claudiaanne
Summary: After the war Draco and Harry fall in love, but Draco is haunted by the memory of his father, who was convicted Death Eater and killed himself in prison. Can Harry save Draco from a dark and violent past, and teach him the meaning of love?
1. Nightmares

**WARNING: RATED M for language, and gay sex(possible forced sex) in later chapters. I will put a warning at the beginning of each chapter that contains explicit content so can skip it if you like. **

He was running for his life through a dark corridor. He knew he would be captured, but he was running anyway. There it was. The door. It was so close, but still so far away. He felt the faintest glimmer of hope. He might actually get out of here! Wherever 'here' was.

Suddenly he was struck from behind. A hand grabbed the neck of his robes, and drug him away from the door. He fought to get away, his sweaty palms sliding on the cool tile floor. It was futile, however, as his captor landed a heavy blow on the back of his head.

He fell to the floor, barely hanging on to his consciousness. Rolling over, he cried, "Why, father? Why are you doing this to me?"

Lucius looked down at his son, a devilish smile curling his lips. "You have disgraced me. For that you will pay. " He raised his wand.

Draco saw green.

Draco's eyes snapped open. He was sitting bolt upright in his bed, tears streaming down his pale face, desperately trying to rid himself of the image of his sneering father. Harry lifted his head in a daze, disturbed by the sudden movement.

"You okay?" Harry asked, his voice thick with sleep.

He could do nothing but vigorously shake his head. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth.

Harry sat up and pulled his lover close. His arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, his head resting on the mans shoulder. "The nightmare again?"

Draco managed a shaky yes, and twisted slightly to better lean into Harry's warm embrace.

"It's all right, Love. I'm here. Everything will be fine." Harry chanted again and again. He rubbed his hands across Draco's back, stroked his platinum blond hair, trying to comfort him.

And Draco was comforted. He knew that as long as Harry was there no harm could ever befall him. As long as he had Harry everything really would be okay. His father was dead. No need to fear him any longer. Now it was just him and the love of his life. No fear, no pain, just love.

When he was calm enough to go back to sleep, Draco snuggled up to Harry as close as he could. Harry pulled the blankets around them, then wrapped Draco securely in his arms.

"I love you, Draco." Harry whispered.

"I love you, Harry." He answered, smiling, as he dropped off to sleep.


	2. Breakfast

**WARNING: This chapter contains language and sex. If you don't like it don't read it.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly I own none of these characters and such. :(**

Draco woke to the smell of bacon. He rolled out of bed, stretching and rubbing his eyes. He meandered down the stairs to find Harry in the kitchen placing a plate of bacon and eggs on the table and whistling tunelessly.

"Don't you own a shirt?" Draco joked. He loved that Harry slept shirtless.

"Just because you have no muscles, doesn't mean I should have to hide mine." Harry shot back. Draco made a face at this and Harry chuckled, grabbed him in a loose hug and kissed his cheek. "Good morning, baby."

Draco would never admit that whenever Harry called him 'baby' he got butterflies. It was so cliché, but he still loved it. He pushed Harry away and sat in the chair facing the window.

Harry poured them coffee and joined him. The chatted lightly over breakfast, and discussed what they should do with their weekend.

When they were finished and the dishes were clean and put away, they drifted into the living room. Harry stood behind Draco and wrapped his arms around his waist. He kissed the exposed skin of his neck, nibbling playfully.

Draco shivered as Harry's warm breath blew across his skin. He could feel Harry's hard member pressing into his back. "Still hungry, are we?" He was amazed by how strong his voice sounded.

"Maybe," Harry growled into his ear. He slid his hand down palming Draco through his pants. Draco bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning.

He ripped away from Harry, turning to face him and forcing him on to his knees. He watched excitedly while Harry slowly pulled down his pants, and then his boxers. He gratefully kicked them away. He grabbed Harry by his hair and brought his mouth closer, shivering at Harry's warm breath ghosting over his length. "Suck." He commanded.

Harry happily complied. He placed his hands on Draco's hips and swirled his tongue around the sensitive head lapping at the pre-come that beaded at the slit. He smiled internally as Draco pushed deeper into his mouth. He bobbed his head a little and pulled on Draco's hip, encouraging him to take the lead.

Draco's breath hitched and he took the incentive. He moaned praise to Harry who hummed happily around his mouthful of cock, sending shudders through him. He thrust deeper now, bumping the back of Harry's throat. Harry choked a bit, but didn't pull away. Still, Draco stopped for a moment and ran his fingers through his lover's messy hair. "Relax. You can take it."

Harry nodded after a moment and Draco resumed his thrusting. Harry didn't gag this time so he sped up by fractions, working deeper every time until Harry's face was pushed into rough blonde curls. He paused to enjoy the heat of Harry's throat around him, and Harry decided to take control again. He swallowed hard around the cock in his throat, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, but it was worth it for Draco's shout of pure pleasure. Draco's fingers fisted in his hair, not guiding just holding on, as Harry hollowed his cheeks and drew off of his cock as slowly as he could manage.

Draco hips stuttered forward, and when he felt the drag of teeth against his flesh he came, white blurring the edges of his vision as his head dropped back in ecstasy.

Harry swallowed Draco's load easily, as he did. He drew back and pulled the smaller man to the ground on top of him. He kissed him, licking into his mouth to let him taste the cum on his tongue. "Fuck me Draco. Please." Harry pleaded between kisses.

Draco murmured a quick lubrication spell and pushed his forefinger into Harry, who moaned appreciatively. He knew Harry grew impatient quickly so he immediately added a second digit. He swallowed Harry's barely audible mumbles of "More" and "Please". He added a third finger, his dick gaining interest in the proceeding at Harry's sharp gasp.

Slowly he removed his fingers and positioned himself between Harry's legs. Just as he entered Harry green flames flared up in the fireplace, and none other than Narcissa Malfoy stepped into their living room. She took in the two boys at her feet, eyes wide, spun on her heel and left.

Draco moved off of Harry and buried his face in the carpet. Harry was shaking, practically biting off his lip to avoid laughing out loud.

"I am mortified. We are never having sex again." Draco moaned into the carpet.

"Oh really? Why is that?" Harry didn't know how he said the words without his voice shaking.

"You're laughing aren't you?"

"No."

"You liar. You absolutely are." And sure enough when Draco looked Harry was shaking and going pink in the face. As soon as their eyes met Harry lost it. He rolled around the floor, laughing his head off. "Harry James Potter, this is not funny!" He just nodded as if to say that it was completely funny, and Draco knew it.

"MY MOTHER JUST WALKED IN ON US!" This only made Harry laugh harder. He knew he was making Draco angry, but he just couldn't help himself.

Draco got up, collected his pajamas from the floor, and stormed off up the stairs.

Harry heard a door slam.


	3. A Dark Past, A Bright Future

**Warning: There are mentions of suicide, rape, and physical abuse in this chapter. There are no details really, but if it bothers you don't read the last paragraph of this chapter.**

It took Harry almost fifteen minutes to compose himself, two to collect his clothes and dress, and nearly thirty to rouse the courage to go upstairs to Draco.

Draco, in that time, had brooded, showered, dressed, and brooded some more. His mother, his bloody MOTHER, of all people had walked in while they were making love, and Harry laughs? He thinks it's funny? What was wrong with him? It was not funny in the slightest. His anger towards Harry was only topped by his embarrassment at his mother seeing him doing that.

When he had finally convinced himself it couldn't possibly be that bad, Harry slowly climbed the stairs and walked down the short hall to their bedroom. He tapped his knuckles lightly against the door. There was no reply from the inside. Harry sighed in defeat. This wouldn't be easy.

"Draco." He spoke softly, leaning against the door. He didn't bother trying to open it. He knew it was locked. "Draco. You don't have to open the door, but will you at least let me know that you're listening?"

"I'm listening." Draco called.

"Draco." Harry sighed. "I know that you're upset with me, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I laughed. I know it wasn't funny, but I was embarrassed. I can't help myself when stuff like that happens. You know I wasn't trying to be an jerk. For Gods' sake, your mother walked in while you had your cock in my ass! I was kind of uncomfortable! What was I supposed to do? Baby, I'm really sorry. I'll even go talk to your mom if you want. Just please let me in? Please?"

There was a painfully long silence. Harry stood there, waiting, for what felt like years. Finally he heard the click of a lock, and the door swung open a fraction.

Draco saw the repentance painted all over Harry's face. He swung the door wider to let him in. Harry immediately pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry." He said again.

"I forgive you." Draco hugged him tighter. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was still slightly angry, but the apology was sincere, and Draco never could stay angry with him for long. He couldn't resist that sweet smile. Or those playful green eyes that always sparkled brightly with some kind of deep humor. Or the unruly black hair that stuck out in all directions, but was impressively soft and smooth. Or the perfect lips that he never wanted to stop kissing. Or the toned muscles of chest and back that he so loved to touch. Or the soft, gentle hands that often comforted him, and often made him shiver. Or the warmth that seemed to simply radiate from Harry, enveloping him in it's delightful caresses. Or the rich, musky scent of his skin. Or the way he tasted. So sweet, like butterscotch candies, but it was somehow richer, deeper than that. It was heavy and warm and wonderful and just so mouth-wateringly Harry. It made his heart thud erratically and his knees go weak. He shivered at just the thought of it.

He sighed happily, so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized they had moved. They were laying in the bed and he was cuddled up to his love with his head on his firm, bare chest.

"Are you cold, baby?" Harry asked, misinterpreting Draco's shiver. He drew the blankets closer around them and held him tighter.

Draco sincerely loved just snuggling with Harry. It made him feel so secure. When Harry held him like this he was positive that he was exactly where he meant to be. His life had been a dreadful blur of pain and misery, arguments and lies, rapes and beatings, all at the hands of his father. So many times he had been on the edge, so close to simply pitching himself off the Astronomy Tower just to get it over with, but he had persevered. He fought through a world of darkness, and despair to this beautiful world of light, and love. These moments with Harry made him realize that in the end it was all worth it. It was worth the years of what his father called love, for this, the real thing.

Draco dozed off, happy to have Harry's arms around him. Those irresistible arms that felt warm, solid, secure, and protecting.


	4. Some Horrific Nightmare

**There's nothing bad in this chapter so just keep on reading!**

Harry woke up very suddenly. The sunlight streaming through the window assaulted his eyes, momentarily blinding him. He had been dreaming peacefully, but was jolted into consciousness by a shout. Where had it come from? Outside perhaps? No. It sounded closer. Too close. Was someone else in the house? Impossible. His security spells would have alerted him to an intruder. Harry sat up and blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the light, and what he saw made his heart stop, before picking up again in double time.

Draco was the one who had shouted. He was curled up in a ball, shaking so hard that the blankets around him bounced with the force of it, and drenched in cold sweat. Fearful whimpers escaped his lips, and suddenly he screamed again, tormented by some horrific nightmare.

The sound shot through Harry like a bullet, and he quickly grabbed the man and shook him hard, calling his name, until he woke. Draco bolted upright and cast a frightened glance around the room.

"Draco!" Harry's worried eyes and the steel grey eyes of his lover met for the briefest of moments before Draco collapsed in on himself, and the sound of the most heart-breaking hysterical sobs Harry had ever heard filled the room.

Harry had never felt so helpless. He could do nothing but hold Draco as tight as he could, rock him and whisper that he was there. He felt hot tears falling endlessly on his chest, and Harry wished desperately that there was more he could do.

Draco cried and cried, unable to staunch the flow of tears. He just let Harry hold him and cried, occasionally sobbing out his name. "I'm here." Harry kept murmuring to him. He had no idea how comforting and terrifying that was. The two simple words, whispered to him repeatedly, were like a promise. A promise that Harry wouldn't move so far as an inch from his side. A promise that Draco could never quite bring himself to reciprocate, nor believe.

It took a long time for Draco to relax, and when he did he layed on his back and tried to turn away. Harry held his shoulders down, and Draco didn't have the will to fight him.

Harry summoned a tall glass of water and a damp, cool washcloth. The water landed by itself on the bedside table. The damp cloth floated into Harry's waiting hand. The cold felt wonderful against Draco's sweaty face and painfully swollen eyes. He appreciated how gentle Harry was being. He felt pathetically frail. He reached for Harry's free hand and held it tightly, eyes closed.

Harry dropped the rag and lifted the water. "Drink." He ordered, bringing the rim of the glass to Draco's lips.

He sipped at it obediently, then drank deeper gulps. The water was blissfully soothing to his throat, which felt raw and achy. He emptied the glass, which Harry then set back on the table. Draco thanked Harry, his voice rough and strained, and the cloth was lifted back to his face.

Harry wiped away the beads of sweat on Draco's brow before moving to his neck. He put the rag down again and stroked Draco's thin cheek.

Draco shuddered. "If I ever have that nightmare again, I'm never ever going back to sleep.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry knew the answer was no. It is always was, but he asked anyway.

Draco surprised him by whispering, "Do you remember when we first started dating? I told you I was more damaged than you could possibly imagine. I'm certain you recall how long it took for me to trust you, and how long it took before I gave my heart to you completely. I know you've always wondered why I am the way I am, and you deserve to know. You're so good to me, Harry, better than I deserve. I've hid this from you for so long. I was afraid it would change your feelings for me, I'm still afraid of that, but I want to tell you now. Just prepare yourself. It's not a pretty story."

Harry nodded his assent, and Draco started them off on a journey through the past. His past.


	5. Someone to Share the Burden

**WARNING: There is a detailed rape and physical abuse in this chapter. This chapter is very intense so be prepared.**

Draco sat thinking for a moment, and believing he had found the right place to begin, spoke.

"We should start with my father. Believe it or not he was a happy child. His father was a wealthy man, with anyone and everyone of importance wrapped around his little finger. He was born poor, my grandfather, and he worked hard to attain what he had. He was kind, caring, and made sure that his son had only the best of everything. He wanted his son to have the childhood he had wished for, but it went to his head. When he passed, and my father took his place as the head of the family, he thought he could never be happier, but he was a disgrace to our name. He joined up with You-Know-Who as soon as he could. He wanted to prove the worth of our family, he used to say. He squandered his fortune, and people distrusted him. He lost the many of the important people his father had connected him with. As far as I'm concerned he couldn't have destroyed his own happiness more thoroughly."

"I was an accident. His marriage was entirely unexpected. He... he raped my mother and to prevent the story from getting out he forced her into marriage. He beat her, raped her, let his friends have their way with her. When I was born my mother knew he would do the same to me. How many times she tried to run, I'm not certain. From the day she conceived me, my mother loved me very much. She fought desperately to get away from him, and when she failed she did her best to protect me."

"My father," He faltered for a moment. He noticed suddenly that Harry was sitting very still. He looked as though he was hardly breathing. His left hand was clamped tightly around Draco's right, and his right rested unmoving on Draco's chest.

Draco lifted his free hand to stroke Harry's face. He stared into Harry's eyes, and what he saw made him nervous. His usually bright eyes seemed dark and serious. They had lost their naïve sparkle.

Harry took a few deep breaths, and relaxed his position, realizing he was sitting very stiffly. "Go on." He said to Draco, who clearly was waiting for Harry to speak.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked.

Harry was silent for a moment, looking away, then burst out, "I don't like talking about this. I can see that it's really hard for you and I don't like anything that hurts you like this. No. It's not that I just don't like it. I hate it. I can't stand it when you're hurt. That's all." Harry sighed deeply. "It hurts me. But I still want to know. I need to understand." Harry's voice faded to a whisper. He was still looking away.

Draco was stunned. Harry wasn't really one to make such speeches about his feelings. Harry wasn't one to discuss his feelings at all. Draco was the same way, so it had never bothered him. In this moment, however, Draco wanted to know what was running through Harry's mind, what emotion caused this outburst.

"Perhaps this is a story to finish at another time." It sounded like a question. Harry shook his head, and Draco felt relieved. He just wanted to get it out there, and get it over with. He continued his story, keeping a close eye on Harry, making sure his words weren't making him too upset.

"My mother's fears that my father would hurt me the way he hurt her came true. He beat me, nearly to death on more than one occasion. He used to lock me in the cellar when I did something wrong. He would take me down there and beat me senseless, then he'd just leave me there until my mother came to find me. She taught herself to be a healer. No matter how badly she was hurt, she would always care for me first. If she were inches from death she would still make sure I was well before worrying about herself. It's thanks to her that I have so few scars from the burns." Harry went rigid at the word. "Yeah. Burning me was one of his favorite pastimes. That's how I got the scar on my left shoulder. And the ones on my right calf, the back of my right hand, the side of my neck, and my left thigh. I'm at least grateful they're faint."

Harry had his eyes shut tight, and was taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm himself. His fingers tightened around Draco's and as calmly as he could manage he said, "What else did he do to you?"

"He would drink a lot. He'd come into my room, ask about my day, tell me that he loved me. Then... then he..." Draco couldn't continue. He was crying again. That nightmare had been such a hideous reminder.

"He raped you." Harry finished. His eyes remained closed, his muscles tight, clenched. He swallowed hard against the bile rising in the back of his throat. He leaned into Draco, laying down on top of him, and rested his face against his heaving chest. A few tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

"My nightmare was just a horrible reminder of the worst night of my life. It was my last night at home before our third year. My father was out so mummy and I finished my school shopping, and she made a special dinner for me. It was such a good day. I went to sleep, and I woke up to the sound of my bedroom door slamming." Harry had to concentrate to hear Draco clearly. His words were coming out as broken sobs, but Draco couldn't stop himself talking. "He tore off my boxers. He started raping me. I just remember wanting it to end. He was heavy, I could barely breath, and it... it really hurt. But the door slam woke my mother. She caught him in the act, and tried to stop him. So he just turned on her. He slapped her. She fell to the floor. He raped her right there in front of me. She told me to close my eyes. I turned my head away and I closed my eyes, but I could still hear her crying. When it was over he left. My mother came to me, told me to get dressed. I cried for a long time. She held me through the whole night. The next morning I didn't want to go. I couldn't leave her there with him. He got her pregnant again that night. He beat her until she miscarried. After that was when I started cutting myself. I kept wondering why that baby got to die and I had to live."

Harry cried in earnest now, overflowing with compassion for Draco's pain. Without his brain giving them permission, his hands moved to Draco's arms, just above the crease of his elbow, where his fingers traced the slightly raised scars, the places where Draco so long ago had pulled a sharp blade through his own skin. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He could only lay there and cry for his lover. He cried for the horrible pain Draco had lived through, and for the scars, physical and mental, that it left upon him now.

Draco, although it was difficult, was glad he had told Harry the truth. He felt as though a great weight had been lifted off of him. He was certain, now that Harry knew, he would no longer have to carry the burdens of his suffering on his own.


	6. An Unknown Sickness

**Due to school starting up again, I probably won't be able to update the story so frequently. Sorry. :( I will keep working, as often as I am able.**

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Their day passed slowly. Every second seemed to last hours, which was fine by them. Harry was content to rest against Draco forever, and Draco was content to hold him.

The light streaming through the window had faded, and there was a dull ache behind his eyes, when Harry finally stirred. He looked up at Draco, who stared down at him with adoring eyes. "We should eat something." Harry stated.

"We should speak to my mother, too." Draco added, a wry smile playing around the corners of his lips.

"I suppose so. What do you want for dinner?" Harry reluctantly pulled away from him and stood, dizzy from being horizontal for so long. He headed down to the kitchen, Draco right behind him.

"I don't care. Something quick, I'm starved."

"Soup it is." Harry said, pulling cans out of a cabinet.

They ate in silence, each too far lost in his own thoughts to notice how quiet the other was being. They both jumped about a foot when the door bell rang. Harry opened the door to find Hermione and Ron.

"Hi guys. Come in." Harry shut the door behind them. He could hear Draco greeting them vaguely in the living room. He also heard an offhand comment from Hermione about Harry being in his pajamas already. Picking up their empty bowls, he put them in the sink, and went to join the others.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Harry asked Hermione, breaking up the awkward silence that had fallen. Ron and Draco were still quite tense, but at Harry and Hermione's insistence, they at least managed to be pleasant to one another. Hermione, although not exactly thrilled with Harry's choice of life partner, was far more supportive, and got along with Draco quite well. Harry was happy, and that was good enough for her.

He joined them on the couch, eyeing Draco who was sitting in the over-large green armchair, staring into the fire he must have just lit.

"We're not staying long, we just have some news to share with you." Hermione said, reclaiming his attention.

"Oh?"

She turned to smile at Ron before saying, "We are expecting our first baby."

Harry smiled, taking in the joyful grin on Ron's face, and Hermione who was simply beaming. He hugged them both. "Congratulations! Draco, isn't that wonderful?"

Draco looked at them smiling weakly for a moment and saying, "Yes, quite wonderful." He slipped right back into his reverie.

Harry wondered if he was still thinking about the things they had spoken about earlier, or if some other thought had claimed his mind. Whatever it was, it was worrying him. He looked back at a confused Hermione, who stood and said that she and Ron would be leaving now as the hour was late and they were tired. Harry walked them to the door where Hermione asked quietly, "Is Draco alright? He seems rather... distant."

"I'm not sure. It's been a long day, Hermione." Harry said. They exchanged a look of concern before Harry congratulated them again, gave Hermione a quick peck on the cheek, and shook Ron's hand. He shut the door behind them, and made his way back to Draco, who hadn't moved an inch. "Draco?"

Draco made no reply, save for absently turning his head toward the sound of Harry's voice.

Harry walked to the armchair and knelt down in front of him. "Are you alright Draco? You're acting rather odd."

Draco looked down at Harry and replied uncertainly, "I think so." Harry's face was lined with worry, and Draco wondered what he looked like. His head swam dizzily. He didn't feel right. He couldn't seem to hold on to his thoughts. Hard as he tried, his eyes refused to focus.

"Do you want to go upstairs and lie down? You look ill."

"Yes. I... I don't feel so well. May-maybe I-I should lie d-down." Draco stuttered. Harry, who was standing now, offered his hand , and he grabbed it and stood. His legs felt as though they had been turned to jelly. The room spun and found himself supported by Harry's arms. His eyes fell shut and he muttered, "I-I think I'm-m going t-to f-f-faint."

Harry drug him across the room and all but carried him up the stairs. He laid Draco down on the bed, and pulled the blankets snuggly around him. Draco was looking around the room like he wasn't sure where he was.

"Draco I'm going for help. I'll be back soon." Harry wasn't sure where he was planning to go exactly, but he needed to try.

The words brought Draco to the surface of the confusion for a moment. Going for help. Help. Yes, he needed help. Wait. Going? No. No, he couldn't go. He didn't want to be alone. He needed Harry.

Harry threw on a sweatshirt and went to kiss Draco before he left, but when he bent to him Draco grabbed the front of his shirt and cried, "N-n-no! P-please d-d-don't l-leave me. H-harry p-please." His begging almost worked. He couldn't just leave him here in this state, but that was exactly why he had to go. He didn't know what to do. He was no healer! But then he got a brilliant idea.

He pulled Draco's hands away from his shirt and kissed his cheek. "I'm going to get your mother, Draco. She can help you. I'll be back really soon." He kissed him again and left.

Go. He couldn't go. Mother. Help. Mother could help him. Yes. Mother. Wrong. He felt wrong. He couldn't think. What was happening to him? Why wouldn't his brain work? The room was spinning. Harry was gone. Gone. No. Harry. Where was Harry? Why had he left? Wait. Help. Getting help. Getting mother. He wanted Harry. He wanted Harry. Harry. Back soon. Back soon. Harry would be here soon. Not soon enough. He wanted Harry.

Harry ran down the stairs, grabbed a handful of floo powder, threw it into the fire, and after a dizzy trip, fell into the cheerfully redecorated Malfoy Manor.

"Narcissa!" He shouted. "Narcissa, I need your help!"

He ran out of the sitting room, down the hall towards the stairs where he nearly crashed into a very flustered Mrs. Malfoy. She was wearing slippers, and a silky robe over her nightgown and had her wand raised slightly. Harry would have felt worse about disturbing her, but Draco needed help.

"Harry! What's wrong?" She asked.

"It's Draco. I don't know what to do. I need help. He needs help. I don't know what's wrong."

He said all of this very fast, grabbing her hand and leading her back to the sitting room. She stopped and spun him to face her. She put her hands on his shoulders, and calmly said, "Harry. Calm down and tell me exactly what is wrong."

Harry took a deep breath. "Draco was acting funny. He seemed very distant, and he looked kind of ill. He said he didn't feel well, and that he wanted to go upstairs and lie down, but when he stood he almost fainted. He's stuttering very badly, and he's very confused, and I didn't know what to do. I know that you're kind of a healer so I thought maybe you could help." He had started out calmly enough, but by the end he was speaking very fast again.

"He told you about what Lucius did to him?" She asked, looking unsurprised.

"To both of you." This shocked her a little. "Please, Narcissa, we have to go. Draco needs your help."

They arrived at the house moments later, and Harry ran up the stairs to Draco's side. Draco cast a confused glance at him, and passed out.

Hard as she tried, Narcissa found nothing wrong with Draco. Almost as soon as she had managed to rouse him, Draco had fallen asleep. She suggested to Harry that he get some sleep and come get her if Draco was still acting odd when he woke, before she departed, leaving Harry alone with Draco.

Harry, exhausted from the events of his day, pulled off his sweatshirt, crawled into bed, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit his pillow.


	7. Unrestrainable Lust

**WARNING: This chapter contains detailed rape.**

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When Draco awoke the room was dark. Harry was lying beside him on his stomach, snoring lightly. He reached out to touch the smooth skin of Harry's exposed back. His arms at least seemed to be in working order again. He flexed his muscles, as though trying to make sure everything was still there. He felt quite normal, for which he was grateful. His brain seemed to be working at the proper speed, unlike last night when he couldn't keep his thoughts straight. He sat up cautiously. The room didn't spin like it had last night. The sky blue walls stayed right where they were supposed to be. He felt like himself again.

Then out of nowhere he did not feel like himself. He looked over at Harry again. As his eyes took in the sight of this beautiful sleeping man he was overcome with unrestrainable lust. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and flicked it casually, causing long silken ties to stream out the end and tie Harry's hands and feet to the bedframe. He flicked it again, causing the material shielding Harry's body from his eyes to tear and fall away. Dropping his wand on the table again, his hands explored the expanse of soft, pale skin that lay before him.

Harry woke with a shock. He could feel Draco's hands moving over his body, and he realized he was naked. He also realized, upon trying to roll over, he was tied to the bed. He recalled several occasions where he had woken up naked and clearly remembered wearing pajamas to bed, but it was unlike Draco to tie him up. He knew that Harry didn't like it, so he had promised to never do it, except if Harry asked him to. He was very uncomfortable, and he began to pull against the ties. This was unlike Draco. Something was very wrong.

Draco barely suppressed a chuckle. Harry must have woken and was tugging at the ties that bound him. He was quite amused by the way he was squirming. He placed the first finger at Harry's entrance and pushed it slowly in. Harry gasped sharply and began to struggle even more against his bonds.

"Draco, what are you doing?" Draco never did things like this. He was gentle, always making sure he wasn't hurting him, and certainly always using lubricant. _What had come over him?_ This simply was not his Draco. Something was very, very wrong. Draco pulled his finger out and pushed back in again, Harry whining in discomfort. Then he felt a second finger being shoved into him and cried out in agony. "Draco, stop!"

Draco reached up to Harry's head with his free hand and pulled his hair, causing another cry to escape him. Part of his mind knew that this was wrong and that he should stop. A very small part of his mind that was easily ignored. He didn't think he'd be able to get the third finger in dry, but somehow he managed to force it. Harry nearly screamed. He was enjoying the almost constant stream of pained cries he was causing.

"Draco!" Harry was giving up. He had bitten his lip so hard from the torment that there was blood in his mouth. He pleaded weakly and sobbed. "You're hurting me. Please."

Suddenly it wasn't just a very small part of his brain that knew what he was doing. The lust was gone and everything made proper sense again. Harry's words echoed in his mind, his voice repeating them a hundred times, then morphing into Draco's own voice. Dozens of memories flooded his mind, and in each he had cried the very same words. You're hurting me. _Please. _His hand released Harry's hair, now just lying there in the soft locks. He pulled his fingers out and gasped. They were covered with blood. That was when he noticed that Harry was shaking. His face was buried in his pillow and something that sounded dreadfully similar to crying met Draco's ears. I'm sorry. He moved off the bed, picking up his wand again. He sliced the silken ties, moving closer to the door. I'm sorry. Harry curled up in a ball, hugging himself, with tears streaming down his face. I'm sorry. There was a bite mark on his lip that was bleeding freely, and bruises on his wrists from his struggles against the ties. The ties. _Oh God._ Harry hated being tied up. He had promised to never do it. I'm sorry._ I'm sorry._ "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry." The words started as a whisper, which grew to a shout.

He ran. Down the stairs, out of the house, down the street. What had he done? He had no idea where he was going, he just ran blindly, his feet quickly carrying him away. He ran until he couldn't run anymore. He ran for miles. _What had he done?_ He had hurt Harry. He had hurt him in a way that was unforgivable. He had done what his father had done to him so many times. He had violated him in the most terrible way. He had taken Harry's love and trust and thrown them away like they didn't matter, when they really meant everything, and now he could never gain them back. He had raped the only man who had ever loved him. He had _raped_ Harry Potter.

The sun was rising when he finally collapsed in a random field, in an unknown forest. Collapsed, and wept, and didn't move for hours.


	8. A Picture Frame

**Sorry this chapter is so short. The next one will be longer.**

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Harry's mind was spinning. He couldn't process what had just happened. He cried for a long time, only moving once to pull the blankets up around himself. What was wrong with Draco? This wasn't something he would do of his own free will. He wouldn't knowingly hurt Harry. He had apologized before he ran out. He was sorry. This was not his Draco.

His Draco. Only Harry truly knew who Draco was. He was coarse on the outside. Rude, arrogant, and cold. If you got to know him, though, he was incredibly sweet, and wonderfully gentle. His steel grey eyes, which looked so coldly upon the rest of the world, looked at Harry with such adoration that it made him blush if he stared into them for too long. He was paler than the moon, and when one of his rare blushes came along, the color in his cheeks was so beautiful, and his smile simply took Harry's breath away. His platinum blond hair, usually neatly combed, was so attractive when it was all tousled and mussed. His body was small, lean, and absolutely perfect. His sweet, earthy smell enticed him, and his light, almost floral taste made his mouth water. Harry sighed, and longed for the man he had fallen in love with.

He felt very lonely at the moment. Upset as he was, he just wanted Draco to come back and hold him and tell him everything was okay.

Harry rose from the bed, shaking, and went to the bathroom. He ran himself a hot bath. Lowering himself into the too warm water he felt his tense muscles begin to relax, and some of the soreness in them began to melt away. He lifted his hands to examine the black and blue marks on his wrists, which throbbed painfully.

Harry felt as though his life meant nothing. No, not his life. Their life. Their love. It all meant nothing now. Why would Draco do this? Draco must've known that had he asked, Harry would have readily given what Draco had taken. Memories danced their way through his head, each waiting patiently for its turn, sweeping gracefully onto the stage, and quickly taking its leave, only to be swiftly replaced by another. Each memory that twirled through his mind brought some remembered feeling, sending crashing waves of emotion through his body as they passed. Every memory he had of their life, their love, danced through his mind in some twisted ballet, that both warmed his heart, and made it so heavy it felt as though it were carved from stone that could fall and crush his insides any moment. The nervous, the impatient, the frustrated, the angry, the tired, the weak, the confusing, the painful, the sad, the lost. These memories of uncertainty, as well as many others, coursed through his body. The comfortable, the patient, the uplifted, the happy, the invigorated, the strong, the clear, the painless, the comforted, the found. This flood of pleasurable times, that in his heart would live forever, reminded him of the dark times they had fought through already. He was so certain of Draco. Yet so uncertain.

These memories that invaded his mind, tangled with the realization of how much Draco had hurt him, crushed his heart with the force of a hundred speeding cars, the pain of a thousand heavy blows, and the feeling that life was meaningless.

Their love was like a picture in a wooden frame, housing a smile-filled picture, which conveyed an air of happiness. A fight begins, and the frame is thrown. The wood cracks and splinters. The glass shatters on the floor. The picture inside is torn and damaged, yet when he who threw it sweeps it all into the garbage, he who witnessed the throwing keeps the ruined picture. And here was Harry, clinging to the memories of the Draco he loved, clinging to his ruined picture, while he was already thrown away with the wood, and the glass, and happiness of another time.


	9. Barely Breathing

couldn't think. He couldn't feel. Part of him was terrified, because he knew he was going to die here, and no one would even know. Another part was fine with that, as he no longer anything to live for. In the brief moments of clarity that passed, the longest lasting only minutes, Draco prayed to a God he didn't believe in. Prayed that if God were real, he would look down on him now in mercy, and take him quickly to whatever fate awaited beyond this life.

On a freezing cold, lonely night Harry decided to take a walk through the forest near his home. Moving down the path, he slipped on something, and found himself on the ground. Harry stood and picked up the object he had fallen on. Harry gasped. Draco's wand. What was it doing here? Harry cast a spell on it, and it started leading him into the dense forest, floating a few feet in front of him. He followed it, knowing it would lead him back to it's owner. He had to be nearby. The wand lead him deep into the forest, finally arriving in a kind of field.

The wand fell to the ground in front of him, so he picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket. Glancing around Harry saw him, and his insides seemed to have dropped out of his body.

A few feet away from him was Draco. He was still, white. Dead.

Harry started to cry, and slowly approached the unmoving figure. Then he noticed the slight motion of his chest. His chest was barely rising and falling, but he was still breathing. He was alive.

Harry's breath caught and for a moment he was unable to move, then suddenly his brain kicked in. He conjured a thick blanket, and wrapped Draco in it, then lifted him off the ground, and carried him back the way he came. He didn't know exactly which way to go, but somehow he got them home. Draco was nearly frozen to death, starved, dehydrated, and clearly not far from death.

The next day, Harry wrote to his boss at the ministry. He had to stay with Draco until he was well again. He used up his two weeks of personal days, giving little explanation, other than saying there was an emergency at home that required his constant presence. Then he wrote to Narcissa, saying only that Draco was very ill.

Harry appreciated that she disregarded this lack of explanation. When she arrived, she asked only questions about Draco's health, none about how he had gotten into such a state. She had managed to wake him, but he couldn't speak, and he was confused. She had told Harry how to take care of the dehydration, and the other easily fixed problems, and then explained why Draco was so confused.

"After the other night I remembered something. Lucius was afraid that when Draco went away to school, that he would try to tell someone what was happening to us. To keep him quiet, he put a powerful curse on him. I researched the spell, and it causes confusion, paralyzation, and it makes people do strange things, things they normally wouldn't dream of doing. I did perform the countercurse, but it may take some time to heal him completely. He'll be fine Harry. Take care of him, dear."

Harry was pleased to hear that, in time, Draco would be restored to his old self. He was also pleased to hear that Draco had not hurt him intentionally. This curse was what made him do it. Harry smiled, sitting next to the bed, and holding Draco's hand.


	10. Recovery

**This chapter mentions rape, but not in detail. **

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The events of the last few days were foggy to Draco. He vaguely remembered his mother being there. He knew that he had slept for a long time. The only thing that he was absolutely certain of was that somehow he was back home, and that Harry was taking very good care of him. He had no memory of hurting Harry, no idea how or why he had left, and no clue how he had gotten back home.

His recovery was a frustrating process. When his mind was finally clear, and he was able to think and speak coherently, he realized that he had very little strength. He wasn't paralyzed anymore, but he was too weak to move. Every now and then he would tighten the muscles in his stomach and legs to assure himself that they were still in proper working order. He curled and uncurled his fingers repeatedly, to assure himself that they were still working as well. Whenever Harry noticed him doing this, he would smile and tell him that his strength would return in time.

Harry was pleased with how well Draco already was. He wasn't confused anymore, and he was strong enough to move a little. Narcissa had told him that it might take as long as a week for this to happen, and it had only been about three days. He hardly left Draco's side, only leaving to prepare his meals, or to shower.

Draco was grateful that Harry seemed so content to stay with him almost constantly. He felt that he must be a terrible burden. He was helpless. Harry had to carry him to the bathroom, bathe him, feed him, dress him, help him sit up or lie down. He was far too weak to do any thing on his own, which annoyed him to no end. Whenever Draco voiced his thoughts though, Harry would smile, touch his face, and quietly say, "I don't mind." And it did seem as though he really didn't.

After about a week had passed Draco was strong enough to feed himself, and bathe himself, dress himself, although he still needed help walking. He was happy that he was almost independent again. He was barely bothered by the fact that he couldn't walk on his own. Harry would hold his hand and help him along, which suited Draco just fine. It was, at least, a reason to refuse to let go of his hand.

One night, while they were laying in bed, Draco asked, "Harry did I hurt you?"

He was stunned by the question. Draco was watching him intently, waiting to see his reaction. "What?"

"Before I left, did I hurt you?" Draco asked. "Is that why I ran away? Please tell me, Harry."

Harry swallowed hard, his face going very pale, and whispered, "Yes. You did, but I forgave you. I forgave you almost immediately after it happened. You apologized, too. It doesn't matter, Draco. It wasn't your fault. You were ill."

A dreadful feeling of guilt swept over him. "What did I do?" A huge part of him didn't want to know, but the rest needed to.

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does! Whatever it was, was really bad. I can tell. You're whiter than the sheets, you're sweating, and you never ever refuse to talk about something with me. Good, bad, or ugly, you always talk about it with me. What did I do to you, Harry?" He had a slight idea, but he needed to be sure. He had to know how badly he had hurt him. He remembered having blood on his hand. He remembered thinking that Harry would never trust him again.

"You raped me." Harry whispered, eyes closed.

Draco nodded, as the words sank in. He remembered. A single tear leaked from the corner of Harry's eye, and he hesitantly reached out to wipe it away. Harry looked at his horrified expression, and moved closer to him. Draco held him tightly, whispering how sorry he was, and begging Harry to forgive him. And Harry did. Harry seemed to hold no hateful feelings. He wasn't scared of Draco. He still trusted him. He still loved him. "How," Draco asked, "Can you forgive me so easily after what I did? How can you still love me?"

"I don't know." Harry told him. "I asked myself that question many times. The only answer I could seem to come up with was that it wasn't your fault. Part of me knew that you wouldn't intentionally hurt me."

Draco stayed awake the whole night. Harry's words echoed through his mind. It may not have been his fault, but Draco still felt horrible. That may be good enough for Harry to forgive him, but it wasn't good enough for him to forgive himself.


	11. I Get What I Want

**There's nothing really bad in this chapter... but there's awkwardness. Just saying. Awkward.**

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Harry did not want to return to work. He considered using some of his accumulated vacation time to stay home with Draco. On the morning he was supposed to go back, Draco woke him, and told him he had to go.

"I don't want to go! I want to stay here with you." Harry protested.

"Harry, I can take of myself. I'll be fine. You can't avoid going back to work forever." Draco had tried to reason with him, but there was just no way to make him listen. Harry wanted what he wanted, and nothing stopped him from getting it.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Harry James Potter, I will be fine, now get your butt out of this bed and get dressed!"

Harry stood up and laughed. "Yes sir!"

Draco, irritated, snapped back, "Don't call me sir."

"Yes ma'am!" Harry said, chuckling as he dressed.

"Don't be smart." Draco threw a pillow at the back of his head. He hit his target and laughed as Harry turned, picked up the pillow, threw it back, and entirely missed him. "You throw like a girl!"

"Shut up." Harry said, coming over to the bed.

As Harry kissed him, Draco wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer. Harry froze, and a wave of guilt swept over Draco. He knew Harry had forgiven him, but Harry sometimes did things that made him realize how much he must have hurt him. The tiniest involuntary actions caused him such pain. Harry sometimes flinched when Draco touched him, or froze up when they kissed, or felt somehow less comfortable when Draco embraced him.

Harry pulled away from him, and whispered, "Draco, I'm sorry."

Draco sighed. "No. It's okay. It's my fault. Just go. It's fine."

"No, Draco. It's my fault. I just get a little freaked out sometimes. I don't mean to do it."

"It's fine." Draco said again.

"No it's not." Harry argued. "I'm sorry Draco. I trust you. You know that."

Draco was silent for a moment. "I know, Harry. You ought to get going. You're going to be late."

"Goodbye. I love you." Harry leaned in again to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, before he departed, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.

"I love you, Harry." Draco whispered to the empty room.

It was a very long morning for Draco. Finally, needing to occupy his mind, he decided to visit his mother. Maybe she could give him some advice.

When he arrived at the Manor, he found his mother lying on the couch in the sitting room, which would have been perfectly normal if she were clothed. And alone. But she wasn't. Both she and the man on top of her looked up when he walked in. Severus! DEAR. GOD. Draco's face turned crimson from embarrassment. Now he knew how his mother had felt when she had walked in on him and Harry. He immediately apparated back home.

When Draco had finally gotten over the fact that he had just caught his mother having sex with Severus, he went back to being depressed about Harry. Catching them had reminded him of that day when his mother walked in, and it made him ache for his lover. He sat in the kitchen thinking about how wonderful it would be just to feel his gentle touch again. To be kissed passionately, with no fear or reservations. Draco was barely aware of the knife in his hand. He wanted Harry. He wanted to feel Harry smile against his lips when they kissed, like he used to. He wanted Harry to cling to him when they embraced, like he used to. He wanted to take back what he had done. He would give anything to have their life back. Their life as it was meant to be. Peaceful, caring, easier than breathing.

Harry opened the door to find Draco sitting at the kitchen table. A bloody knife sat before him, and he was watching the blood rush from several deep gashes in his arm, just above the crease of his elbow. Draco looked from Harry to his arm and then back again, as though he were frightened by what he had done.

Harry pulled a chair up next to him, and examined his expression. "Scared yourself, huh?" Harry asked him, pulling his wand out of his pocket. Draco said nothing. He looked at his arm again, then back at Harry. He held his arm out towards him, and Harry said, "I know, I'll fix it. It's alright, Draco."

Harry healed him, and cleaned the blood from his skin, then fixed him with a serious look. "Is this about this morning?"

Draco couldn't find the right words to explain the situation, so he just nodded.

"Draco." Harry sighed. "I know things have been a little rough for you recently, and I know the way I'm acting isn't making things any easier. I'll get over what happened in time. What's important is that I still trust you, and I still love you with all of my heart. No matter what may happen, no matter how upset you are, you mustn't hurt yourself! Draco, please."

"I didn't mean to." Draco interrupted. "Harry, I swear I didn't mean to. It just kind of happened. It scared me."

"Promise me that you won't do it again." Harry asked.

Draco could tell that it scared Harry too. "I promise." He tentatively reached out for him. Harry surprised him by practically jumping into his lap and holding on to him tightly. He leaned into his chest, and seemed to melt into him. He wrapped his arms around him tightly, and for once Harry didn't flinch away. "Oh, by the way, you'll never guess what happened to me today."

"What?" Harry asked, resting his head on Draco's shoulder, and allowing his eyes to close.

"I went to see my mother, and I found her having sex with Severus!"

"What!? Severus Snape!? What did you do?" Harry gasped, pulling away to look at him.

"I left. I turned around and left. They hadn't even the decency to cover themselves up! I saw more of Severus today than I care to admit!"

They laughed together over the complete awkwardness of the situation.

"So who was on top?" Harry asked.

"Harry!"

"I'm joking!" Harry said, laughing loudly.

"You are awful! This happens to be my mother we're talking about!" Draco said.

"Hey, I'm just asking! To be honest I didn't think Snape swung that way anymore! I bet he got off on getting caught."

"HARRY!"

"Oh, hush! Your throat will hurt if you keep yelling like that." Harry said.

"Awful. You're completely awful." Draco said, but then he found himself quieted by a kiss. The passion of it surprised him, and he responded without thought, his eyelids drooping shut, and his hand moving to that soft black hair.

Draco's tongue traced his lower lip. He was hesitant, testing the waters, making sure that this was okay. Harry smiled against his lips, before plunging his tongue into Draco's slightly open mouth. He explored his mouth, their tongues swirling together. He pulled away, only to start kissing his neck.

"Someone is frisky today." Draco muttered, smiling.

Harry chuckled. "I get what I want. Tonight I want you."

Draco lifted Harry's face to kiss him again.


	12. A Thought

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry it took so long for this chapter to be written and posted, but school, dance, and general life have kept me SUPER busy! Somewhere in the middle of midterm madness, pulling all-nighters to cram for last minute tests, six million projects, a speech about Shakespeare, and trying to learn a bunch of dance routines, my muse ran off and tried to kill itself. I had to drag it back kicking and screaming, but it finally came back! This story may have another two or three chapters, but sadly it will be ending soon. This one is a little short, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. I very much appreciate your patience!**

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He wasn't rejecting him. He was kissing Harry, and Harry was kissing him right back. Their hips ground together, and their hands were wandering, and Draco couldn't come down from the high he was getting from it. In the past few weeks Harry hadn't so much as hugged him and seemed comfortable. The rejection was unbearable, painful, and worst of all he knew he deserved it. Finally, after long days of feeling unloved, here they were, just as they should be. He was delighting in every moment of this, but a very small part of him wondered how long it would last.

Harry was surprised by how well Draco was responding to him. The reservations in Draco's mind must have somehow cleared themselves away, because he definitely wasn't holding back. It was like he was suddenly himself again. Draco who always reacted instinctively instead of thinking.

And then a thought struck Harry. If it had been any more obvious it would have smacked him in the face. It was, in many ways a marvelous realization, but it many others, completely terrifying.

Instinct. Draco always reacted on instinct. What if Narcissa hadn't fully lifted the curse? Or what if, possibly, she had found a very similar curse instead? Similar, but not the same. She could have easily found a temporary fix for the wrong curse, and not a permanent fix for the real one. Something about this curse was making Draco do horrible things, and maybe it was instinct. This curse had somehow taken Draco's instincts and turned them against him.

This, of course, was the perfect explanation. Draco loved him very much, and would certainly be filled with lust for him, and that was why he had raped him. When he awoke, his first instinct when he saw him was to take him. His lust overpowered him, and made him hurt Harry. Cutting himself was also explained. Draco must have seen his actions this morning as rejection. In his past, his father had done nothing but reject him. Because of his past, his first instinct was to harm himself. It was a plea for care and attention, and also a sign that he was hurting far worse than Harry knew, and that he was in denial about it.

He ripped himself away from Draco, wanting to share this idea with him, and instantly regretted it.

Draco dropped his head, looking away. His hands clenched into fists and were instantly at his sides, rather than holding Harry. There was the rejection again. He had pushed the limits too far and Harry was pushing him away again.

"Draco," Harry began, "I'm sorry. I didn't intend for that to happen the way it did. Don't get upset, Draco, please. I just had a thought, and you really need to hear it."

He wanted to believe the words that fell from his lovers' mouth, but his brain wouldn't let him. A wave of that horrifying confusion swept over him once more. He knew Harry was being honest, but then he didn't. His brain was screaming that Harry was lying. But why would he lie? Harry loved him. He wasn't trying to reject him. He had a crazy urge to reach out for the knife that still sat just within his grasp on the kitchen table.

His mind swirled, and everything became hazy. Harry hated him, but then why would he kiss him like that? Why would he taunt him that way? So, Harry loved him? Then why would he reject him? Nothing made sense. Why didn't anything make sense anymore? His thoughts ran rampant, and he realized he was losing himself again. He closed his eyes, and grabbed his head. Frustration encircled him as he fought for control of his own mind.

Somewhere, seeming to come from a very long way away, Harry was saying his name. He wanted to respond. He tried, but found himself unable to answer. It was like the curse had consumed him again. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. A feeling of dreadful fear spread through him, and he realized he was very cold.

Pleading calls of his name still came from somewhere in the distance, but they seemed to be growing quieter, moving farther away. Suddenly there was silence. Then everything went black.


End file.
